


you're golden kid

by deniigiq



Series: Blindspot and the Ordeal of Being Known [6]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Dogs, Gen, Matt is a proud dog father, Pets, Service Dogs, Slice of Life, Social Media, and the King of Irony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:15:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23104579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deniigiq/pseuds/deniigiq
Summary: The ladies of the household were Tuesday and Hazel. One of them had bad manners. Their name started with an ‘H’ and they could do no wrong in their father’s sightless eyes despite this.(Sam makes an Instagram account for Matt's guide dogs.)
Relationships: Samuel Chung & Dogs, Samuel Chung & Kirsten McDuffie & Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Samuel Chung & Social Media
Series: Blindspot and the Ordeal of Being Known [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658656
Comments: 13
Kudos: 410





	you're golden kid

**Author's Note:**

> how many blindspot fics do I have backlogged, you ask?  
> many.

Tuesday had two collars, two bandanas, three tennis balls and one sister.

Sam could relate.

He had two masks, two suits, three computers, and one sister.

Matt said that this did not make him and Tuesday soulmates, but Sam knew what was really up here. When Tuesday put a paw on his arm when he was researching on the floor of his room and stared deep into his eyes, he knew that she knew what was up, too.

Back in New York, Sam had never lived in a place that allowed dogs. Mom hadn’t loved them and no one had been home enough to look after them so it had just been responsible not to keep any.

Mom applied this logic to pets of all shapes and forms. She didn’t like Sam and Hannah feeding the neighborhood crows and pigeons and cats either. She sighed every time and told them that people got sick from touching wild animals.

Sam had never really understood how pigeons were supposed to be wild. He’d learned as he’d gotten older that they were flagrantly uncaring of danger, but that was something completely different from ‘wild.’

Matt, Foggy told Sam covertly, had had a slightly different upbringing.

Apparently, Matt’s dad would have killed for a dog. Loved ‘em. Loved animals generally—was just a Cinderalla-esque kind of guy; a gentle giant, Matt called him, when he wasn’t in the ring.

Baby Matt, on the other hand, had been _terrified_ of animals. Pretty much categorically. The only animals he wasn’t afraid of, he was allergic to.

The gentle giant had eventually folded to his tiny, eventual-giant’s fears and had accepted that the most animal interaction he’d get in their household was looking right at him, callin’ him ‘daddy.’

Sam wished all the time that he could go back meet Mr. Jack Murdock, for, if nothing else, to give him one giant hug that mixed condolences all up with gratitude and apology.

He mentioned it once and Matt got a little teary-eyed and suddenly remembered a case that needed addressing on a Sunday at eight o’clock in the evening.

Foggy sniffed as he assured Sam that these were happy tears. He also said that Mr. Jack Murdock would have probably been all about the ladies of the household.

Not Kirsten, though. Kirsten wasn’t a lady. She was a (self-proclaimed) dominatrix. And she declared that she would not be subjected to gender bias because of it.

The ladies of the household were Tuesday and Hazel. One of them had bad manners. Their name started with an ‘H’ and they could do no wrong in their father’s sightless eyes despite this.

Sam had a lot of pictures of the household ladies on his phone. He showed them to coworkers and people he met because pets were always a safe topic of conversation. The coworkers met Tuesday and Hazel, but they tended to meet them in their guiding harnesses and so missed out on a lot of their majestic dogginess.

Not to worry, though. Sam had it all documented.

He considered, every now and then, posting a picture of the ladies on his Blindspot twitter.

Matt said that that might be a little dangerous because the dogs were recognizable. He’s been told this by many people.

Sam could hardly argue with that. But they did deserve love and affection and adoration from the four corners of the world, he argued instead.

So after a while, Matt sighed hard and Foggy hid his giant, beaming smile and Matt let Sam make the pups an Instagram account.

On the one hand, Sam probably shouldn’t have put as much time and effort as he did in curating the dogs’ Instagram account. On the other hand, he was a paralegal living in San Francisco; there was only so much that salary could buy you and going out every night to party or otherwise distract yourself was not included in that.

Foggy and Kirsten were the first people to follow the dogs’ account because, obviously, they had to.

Sam followed the account for the hell of it.

Overnight, 25 other people found it in their hearts to follow this new golden retriever blog. A hundred or so others joined them over the next week, which made everyone at the office very proud of the dogs for their internet fame.

But then Sam maybe fucked up. Matt wasn’t mad at him, though.

Matt laughed for _days_ about the whole thing. Big, bellowing belly laughs and soft, wheezing cackles in the breakroom.

Sam was glad he wasn’t mad.

The picture of Hazel fetching Matt’s horned helmet in the background of an image of Tuesday holding one of her tennis balls went viral.

Matt joked with their clients when they asked him about it that he and Foggy had been going to a costume party and he’d picked the Daredevil costume for the irony of it all, which anyone who had known Matt for longer than twenty seconds totally believed.

This was a guy who _reveled_ in dramatic irony. His idea of a good time was hanging mistletoe in places impossible to stand under.

But whatever. It worked for the people who actually met and knew Tuesday and Hazel; unfortunately for them all, however, the internet did not actually know Tuesday and Hazel and their strange, lawyerly father.

The internet, in one of its many misguided moments of clarity, flew into chaos at the fact that Daredevil had made an Instagram account for his dogs.

The ladies’ account now had thousands of followers. Many were rude. Sam blocked them and restated Matt’s story firmly.

These were guide dogs, he told the following flock. For a blind man. Who was not Daredevil. Just a weird guy out West trying to live his best life. The account was for good vibes only, he wrote. People failing to meet that standard would be blocked.

He thought that that was pretty good. Foggy and Matt and Kirsten thought so, too, and they went on with their lives, with Sam pausing every so often to gaze down into Tuesday’s liquid gaze and take a snapshot of it to improve the moods of other people all around the world.

Tuesday didn’t mind. Hazel certainly liked the toys that people recommended for her.

Sam shared the account with Kirsten because she could see better and had lately become equally invested in capturing the dogs’ delightful antics. She posted videos.

She was happy to take a video of Matt throwing one frisbee after another and going to sit down on a park bench, only to be thwarted by the first frisbee already being at his knee, nudging there.

He threw that one in the first immediate direction that called to him and almost got to sit before the second was returned to him.

He threw that one and crashed down onto the bench before the window of opportunity closed and was promptly besieged by two frisbees all at once.

People loved Matt and his daughters. People were intrigued at how this blind guy, feeling carefully for the bench, had such great aim with all the toys he was constantly chucking left and right. Kirsten helpfully stated that they always took the dogs to parks with wide open spaces to account for the blind guy’s rogue aim.

She also posted videos of Matt making the rookie mistake of laying on the floor in their household.

The dogs _loved_ when people dropped down to their level. They clambered all over these souls and stuck their noses in their ears and wagged their tails.

It was all very exciting.

Kirsten also took videos of Sam, unaware of her dastardly and cunning ways, luring the dogs up onto furniture he was not supposed to let them be on.

She had a whole compilation of such attempts. And then she didn’t even have the decency to spare the internet Sam’s eventual telling-off by Matt.

His scolding was now public knowledge. It was all in good humor, but it was still a little embarrassing.

Someone on Sam’s Blindspot twitter page noted that he followed the dogs’ account on his Blindspot Instagram.

They asked him if he’d ever seen the dogs while he was bopping around SF with DD. They asked him if he could go take a selfie with DD and the dogs ironically, since that one image had gone viral.

Hella folks thought that that would be absolutely _hilarious_.

Sam posed the idea to Matt.

Matt, King of Irony, _loved_ it. Foggy and Kirsten, Monarchs of Common Sense and Logical Thinking, thought otherwise.

They warned Sam to be careful because that would tie their firm to DD and BT. And that was understandable. Matt, however, pointed out that their firm was already tied to DD and BT and he wanted a family portrait goddamnit.

Foggy sighed. Kirsten sighed.

Matt, proud of his victory, beamed and told Sam to go suit up.

The dogs despised the Daredevil suit. God, they hated it. They didn’t mind it chilling in the laundry room or stuffed in the trunk in their father’s bedroom, but when there was a body in it, it might as well have been Satan himself.

They didn’t care half as much about Sam’s suit.

Kirsten relented and tried to get a picture of the four of them through the chaos that was Matt trying to soothe the beasts barking at him outside in the backyard.

It was a shitshow. Hazel kept trying to bite him and then running around the yard furiously before giving it another go.

Sam couldn’t stop laughing. Both dogs kept coming over to him and walking all over him as they tried to work out what to do with that evil intruder over there.

Kirsten eventually managed a shot.

It went up on the app with a ‘well, we tried?’ caption. Sam reposted it on his Blindspot Twitter and said ‘y’all said they were friendly.’

It became, by far, one of his most popular tweets.

That was a one-time deal, though. The account needed to be kept clear of DD and Blindspot and so they didn’t do any more photoshoots. Matt had his image. He made Foggy trace over it with an empty ballpoint pen so he could feel it up every so often and giggle maniacally.

Sam was happy that he was so entertained by it.

Foggy hid it in a drawer so as to keep the cackling to a minimum. He had a theory that if Matt couldn’t get his hands on something, he forgot it existed.

He and Kirsten were constantly testing it.

If Sam wasn’t so busy making Hannah help him pick the right saturation levels for the dogs’ pictures, he would have documented that, too. But alas, he was only one man.

And anyways, he and Matt weren’t soulmates. Tuesday was the one who required his complete and total attention.

**Author's Note:**

> * Matt and Sam get away with this by claiming that DD's retrievers from the Youtube AMA are different colors than Haze and Tues. And it's not like, uncommon for people just collect retrievers, man.


End file.
